The Slippery Slope (A Series of Unfortunate Events, Book 10)_clone_clone

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “It’s a commonplace book,” the scout said. “Whenever I find something that seems impor- tant or interesting, I write it down. That way, all my important information is in one place.” “I should start one,” Klaus said. “My pock- ets are bulging with scraps of paper.” “From information I read in Dr. Mont- gomery’s book, and a few others,” the scout said, “I managed to draw a map of where to go from here.” He opened the purple notebook and flipped a few pages until he reached a small but elegant rendering of the cave, the Vertical Flame Diversion, and the hallway in which they were standing now. “As you can see,” he said, running his finger along the hallway, “the pas- sageway branches off in two directions.” “This is a very well-drawn map,” Violet said. “Thank you,” the scout replied. “I’ve been interested in cartography for quite some time. See, if we go to the left, there’s a small area used for sled and snowsuit storage, at least according to a newspaper article I found. But if we go 141

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  right, we’ll arrive at the Vernacularly Fastened Door, which should open onto the headquarters’ kitchen. We might walk in on the entire organi- zation having breakfast.” The two Baudelaires looked at one another through their masks, and Violet put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. They did not dare to say out loud their hope that one of their parents might be just around the corner. “Let’s go,” Violet whispered. The scout nodded silently in agreement, and led the Baudelaires down the hallway, which seemed to get colder and colder with every step. By now they were so far from Bruce and the Snow Scouts that there was no need to whisper, but all three children kept quiet as they walked down the dim, curved hallway, hushed by the feeling of the corridors of power. At last they reached a large metal door with a strange device where the doorknob should have been. The device looked a bit like a spider, with curly wires spreading out in all directions, but 142

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  where the head of the spider might have been was the keyboard of a typewriter. Even in her excitement to see the headquarters, Violet’s inventing mind was interested in such a device, and she leaned closer to see what it was. “Wait,” the sweatered scout said, reaching his arm out to stop her. “This is a coded lock. If we don’t operate it properly, we won’t be able to get into the headquarters.” “How does it work?” Violet said, shivering slightly in the cold. “I’m not sure,” the scout admitted, and took out his commonplace book again. “It’s called the Vernacularly Fastened Door, so—” “So it operates on language,” Klaus finished. “Vernacular is a word for ‘a local language or dialect.’” “Of course,” Violet said. “See how the wires are curled around the hinges of the door? They’re locked in place, unless you type in the right sequence of letters on that keyboard. There are more letters than numbers, so it would be more 143

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  difficult for someone to guess the combination of the lock.” “That’s what I read,” the scout confirmed, looking at a page in his notebook. “You’re sup- posed to type in three specific phrases in a row. The phrases change every season, so volunteers need to have a lot of information at their finger- tips to use this door. The first is the name of the scientist most widely credited with the discov- ery of gravity.” “That’s easy,” Violet said, and typed in S-I- R-I-S-A-A-C-N-E-W-T-O-N, the name of a physicist she had always admired. When she was finished, there was a muted clicking sound from the typewriter keyboard, as if the device was warming up. “The second is the Latin name for the Vol- unteer Feline Detectives,” the scout said. “I found the answer in Remarkable Phenomena of the Mortmain Mountains. It’s Panthera leo.” He leaned forward and typed in P-A-N-T-H-E-R- A-L-E-O. There was a very quiet buzzing 144

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  sound, and the children saw that the wires near the hinges were shaking very slightly. “It’s beginning to unlock,” Violet said. “I hope I get a chance to study this invention.” “Let’s get to the headquarters first,” Klaus said. “What’s the third phrase?” The scout sighed, and turned a page in the commonplace book. “I’m not sure,” he admit- ted. “Another volunteer told me that it’s the cen- tral theme of Leo Tolstoy’s novel Anna Karenina, but I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.” Violet knew that her brother was smiling, even though she could not see his face through the mask. She was remembering one summer, very long ago, when Klaus was very young and Sunny was not even conceived. Every summer, the Baudelaires’ mother would read a very long book, joking that lifting a large novel was the only exercise she liked to get during the hot months. During the time Violet was thinking of, Mrs. Baudelaire chose Anna Karenina for her summer reading, and Klaus would sit on his 145

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  mother’s lap for hours at a time while she read. The middle Baudelaire had not been reading very long, but their mother helped him with the big words and would occasionally stop reading to explain what had happened in the story, and in this way Klaus and his mother read the story of Ms. Karenina, whose boyfriend treats her so poorly that she throws herself under a train. Violet had spent most of that summer studying the laws of thermodynamics and building a miniature helicopter out of an eggbeater and some old copper wiring, but she knew that Klaus must remember the central theme of the book he read on his mother’s lap. “The central theme of Anna Karenina,” he said, “is that a rural life of moral simplicity, despite its monotony, is the preferable personal narrative to a daring life of impulsive passion, which only leads to tragedy.” “That’s a very long theme,” the scout said. “It’s a very long book,” Klaus replied. “But I can work quickly. My sisters and I once tapped 146

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  out a long telegram in no time at all.” “Too bad that telegram never arrived,” the scout said quietly, but the middle Baudelaire was already pressing the keys on the Vernacu- larly Fastened Door. As Klaus typed the words “a rural life,” a phrase which here means “liv- ing in the country,” the wires began to curl and uncurl very quickly, like worms on a sidewalk after it has rained, and by the time Klaus was typing “the preferable personal narrative,” a phrase which here means “the way to live your life,” the entire door was quivering as if it were as nervous as the Baudelaires. Finally, Klaus typed “T-R-A-G-E-D-Y,” and the three chil- dren stepped back, but instead of opening, the door stopped shaking and the wires stopped moving, and the passageway was dead quiet. “It’s not opening,” Violet said. “Maybe that isn’t the central theme of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina.” “It seemed like it was working until the last word,” the scout said. 147

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “Maybe the mechanism is a little stuck,” Violet said. “Or maybe a daring life of impulsive pas- sion only leads to something else,” the scout said, and in some cases this mysterious person was right. A daring life of impulsive passion is an expression which refers to people who fol- low what is in their hearts, and like people who prefer to follow their head, or follow the advice of other people, or follow a mysterious man in a dark blue raincoat, people who lead a daring life of impulsive passion end up doing all sorts of things. For instance, if you ever find your- self reading a book entitled The Bible, you would find the story of Adam and Eve, whose daring life of impulsive passion led to them putting on clothing for the first time in their lives, in order to leave the snake-infested garden where they had been living. Bonnie and Clyde, another famous couple who lived a daring life of impulsive passion, found that it led them to a successful if short career in 148

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  bank robbery. And in my own case, in the few moments where I have led a daring life of impulsive passion, it has led to all sorts of trouble, from false accusations of arson to a bro- ken cuff link I can never have repaired. But in this case, as the Baudelaires stood at the Vernac- ularly Fastened Door, hoping to reach the V.F.D. headquarters, rescue their sister, and see if one of their parents was indeed alive, it was not the sweatered scout but the two Baudelaires who were right, because in Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, a daring life of impulsive passion leads only to tragedy, as Klaus said, and as Violet said, the mechanism was a little stuck, and after a few seconds, the door swung open with a slow and eerie creak. The children stepped through the door, blinking in the sudden light, and stood frozen in their steps. If you have read this far in the Baudelaires’ woeful story, then you will not be surprised to learn that the V.F.D. headquar- ters in the Valley of Four Drafts in the Mort- main Mountains was no more, but Violet and 149

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  Klaus, of course, were not reading their own story. They were in their own story, and this was the part of their story where they were sick with shock at what they saw. The Vernacularly Fastened Door did not open onto a kitchen, not anymore. When the Baude- laires followed the mysterious scout through the doorway, they found themselves standing in what at first seemed to be a large field, growing a black and ruined harvest in a valley as cold and drafty as its name. But slowly, they saw the charred remains of the grand and impressive building that had stood where the three children were standing. Nearby was a handful of silverware that had sur- vived the blaze, scattered in front of the remnants of a stove, and a refrigerator stood to one side, as if it were guarding the ashen remains of the rest of the kitchen. To one side was a pile of burnt wood that had probably once been a large dining table, with a half-melted candelabra sticking out of the top like a baby tree. Farther away, they could see the mysterious shapes of other objects 150

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  that had survived the fire—a trombone, the pen- dulum of a grandfather clock, what looked like a periscope, or perhaps a spyglass, an ice cream scoop, lying forlornly in a pile of ashes encrusted with burnt sugar, and an iron archway emblazoned with the words “V.F.D. Library,” but there was nothing beyond the archway but piles and piles of blackened remains. It was a devastating sight, and it made Violet and Klaus feel as if they were all alone in a world that had been completely ruined. The only thing they could see that seemed untouched by the fire was a sheer, white wall, beyond the refrigerator, that rose up as far as two siblings could see. It took the Baudelaires a few moments to realize that it was a frozen waterfall, rising up in a slippery slope toward the source of the Stricken Stream on Mount Fraught, so shiny and white that it made the ruined headquarters look even darker. “It must have been beautiful,” the sweat- ered scout said, in a quivering voice. He walked toward the waterfall, his feet churning up black 151

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  dust with every step. “I read that there was a large window,” he said, moving his gloved hand in the air as if it were still there. “When it was your turn to cook, you could look out at the waterfall while you were chopping vegetables or simmering a sauce. It was supposed to be very peaceful. And there was a mechanism just outside the window that turned some of the water from the pool into steam. The steam rose up and covered the headquarters, so it couldn’t be seen through the blanket of mist.” The Baudelaires walked to where the scout was standing, and looked into the frozen pool at the bottom of the waterfall. The pool branched off into two tributaries, a word which here means “divisions of a river or stream, each twisting off in a different direction past the ruins of the head- quarters, and curving around the Mortmain Mountains until they disappeared from view.” Violet and Klaus gazed sadly at the icy swirls of black and gray they had noticed when they were walking alongside the Stricken Stream. “It was 152

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  ashes,” Klaus said quietly. “Ashes from the fire fell into the pool at the bottom of the waterfall, and the stream carried them down the river.” Violet found that it was easier to discuss a small, specific matter than think about her immense disappointment. “But the pool is frozen solid,” she said. “The stream couldn’t have carried the ashes anywhere.” “It wouldn’t have been frozen when it hap- pened,” Klaus replied. “The heat from the fire would have thawed the pool.” “It must have been awful to see,” the sweatered scout said. Violet and Klaus stood with him, imagining the inferno, a word which here means “enormous fire that destroyed a secret headquarters high in the mountains.” They could almost hear the shattering of glass as the windows fell away, and the crackle of the fire as it consumed everything it could. They could almost smell the thick smoke as it floated upward and blackened the sky, and they could almost see the books in the library, falling from 153

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  the burning shelves and tumbling into ashes. The only thing they could not picture was who might have been at the headquarters when the fire began, running out into the freezing cold to avoid the flames. “Do you think,” Violet said, “any of the vol- unteers . . .” “There’s no sign that anyone was here,” the scout said quickly. “But how can we know for sure?” Klaus asked. “There could be a survivor someplace right now.” “Hello?” Violet called, looking around her at the rubble. “Hello?” She found that her eyes were filling with tears, as she called out for the people she knew in her heart were nowhere nearby. The eldest Baudelaire felt as if she had been calling for these people since that terrible day on the beach, and that if she called them enough they might appear before her. She thought of all the times she had called them, back when she lived with her siblings in the Baudelaire mansion. 154

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  Sometimes she called them when she wanted them to see something she had invented. Some- times she called them when she wanted them to know she had arrived home. And sometimes she called them just because she wanted to know where they were. Sometimes Violet just wanted to see them, and feel that she was safe as long as they were around. “Mother!” Violet Baudelaire called. “Father!” There was no answer. “Mom!” Klaus called. “Dad!” The Baudelaires heard nothing but the rush of all four of the valley’s drafts, and a long creak as the Vernacularly Fastened Door blew shut. They saw that the door had been made to look just like the side of the mountain, so that they could scarcely see where they had come from, or the way to get back. Now they were truly alone. “I know we were all hoping to find people at the headquarters,” the sweatered scout said gently, “but I don’t think anyone is here. I think we’re all by ourselves.” 155

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “That’s impossible!” Klaus cried, and Violet could hear that he was crying. He reached through his layers of clothing until he found his pocket, and pulled out page thirteen from the Snicket file, which he had been carrying with him since the Baudelaires had found it at Heimlich Hos- pital. The page had a photograph of their parents, standing with Jacques Snicket and another man the Baudelaires had been unable to identify, and above the photograph was a sentence Klaus had memo- rized from reading it so many times. “‘Because of the evidence discussed on page nine,’” he recited tearfully, “‘experts now suspect that there may in fact be one survivor of the fire, but the survivor’s whereabouts are unknown.’” He walked up to the scout and shook the page in his face. “We thought the survivor would be here,” he said. “I think the survivor is here,” the scout said quietly, and removed his mask to reveal his face at last. “I’m Quigley Quagmire,” he said, “I sur- vived the fire that destroyed my home, and I was hoping to find my brother and sister.” 156

CHAPTER Eight It is one of the peculiar truths of life that people often say things that they know full well are ridiculous. If someone asks you how you are, for example, you might automatically say “Fine, thank you,” when in fact you have just failed an examination or been trampled by an ox. A friend might tell you, “I’ve looked every- where in the world for my keys,” when you know that they have actually only looked in a few places in the immediate area. Once I said to a woman I loved very much, “I’m sure that this trouble will end soon, and you

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  and I will spend the rest of our lives together in happiness and bliss,” when I actually suspected that things were about to get much worse. And so it was with the two elder Baudelaires, when they stood face-to-face with Quigley Quagmire and found themselves to be saying things they knew were absurd. “You’re dead,” Violet said, and took off her mask to make sure she was seeing things clearly. But there was no mistaking Quigley, even though the Baudelaires had never seen him before. He looked so much like Duncan and Isadora that he could only be the third Quag- mire triplet. “You perished in a fire along with your par- ents,” Klaus said, but as he took off his mask he knew this wasn’t so. Quigley was even giving the two Baudelaires a small smile that looked exactly like his siblings’. “No,” Quigley said. “I survived, and I’ve been looking for my siblings ever since.” “But how did you survive?” Violet asked. 158

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “Duncan and Isadora said that the house burned to the ground.” “It did,” Quigley said sadly. He looked out at the frozen waterfall and sighed deeply. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. I was in my family’s library, studying a map of the Finite Forest, when I heard a shattering of glass, and people shouting. My mother ran into the room and said there was a fire. We tried to go out the front door but the main hall was filled with smoke, so she took me back into the library and lifted a corner of the rug. There was a secret door underneath. She told me to wait down below while she fetched my siblings, and she left me there in the dark. I remember hearing the house falling to pieces above me, and the sound of fran- tic footsteps, and my siblings screaming.” Quigley put his mask down on the ground and looked at the two Baudelaires. “But she never came back,” he said. “Nobody came back, and when I tried to open the door, something had fallen on top of it and it wouldn’t budge.” 159

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “How did you get out?” Klaus asked. “I walked,” Quigley said. “When it became clear that no one was going to rescue me, I felt around in the dark and realized I was in a sort of passageway. There was nowhere else to go, so I started walking. I’ve never been so fright- ened in my life, walking alone in some dark pas- sageway my parents had kept secret. I couldn’t imagine where it would lead.” The two Baudelaires looked at one another. They were thinking about the secret passage- way they had discovered underneath their home, which they had discovered when they were under the care of Esmé Squalor and her husband. “And where did it lead?” Violet said. “To the house of a herpetologist,” Quigley said. “At the end of the passageway was a secret door that opened into an enormous room, made entirely of glass. The room was filled with empty cages, but it was clear that the room had once housed an enormous collec- tion of reptiles.” 160

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “We’ve been there!” Klaus cried in amaze- ment. “That’s Uncle Monty’s house! He was our guardian until Count Olaf arrived, disguised as—” “As a lab assistant,” Quigley finished. “I know. His suitcase was still there.” “There was a secret passageway under our house, too,” Violet said, “but we didn’t discover it until we lived with Esmé Squalor.” “There are secrets everywhere,” Quigley said. “I think everyone’s parents have secrets. You just have to know where to look for them.” “But why would our parents, and yours, have tunnels underneath their homes leading to a fancy apartment building and a herpetologist’s home?” Klaus said. “It doesn’t make any sense.” Quigley sighed, and put his backpack on the ashen ground, next to his mask. “There’s a lot that doesn’t make sense,” he said. “I was hop- ing to find the answers here, but now I don’t know if I’ll ever find them.” He took out his purple notebook and opened it to the first page. 161

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “All I can tell you is what I have here in this commonplace book.” Klaus gave Quigley a small smile, and reached into his pockets to retrieve all of the papers he had stored there. “You tell us what you know,” he said, “and we’ll tell you what we know. Perhaps together we can answer our own questions.” Quigley nodded in agreement, and the three children sat in a circle on what was once the kitchen floor. Quigley opened his backpack and took out a bag of salted almonds, which he passed around. “You must be hungry from the climb up the Vertical Flame Diversion,” he said. “I know I am. Let’s see, where was I?” “In the Reptile Room,” Violet said, “at the end of the passageway.” “Well, nothing happened for a while,” Quigley said. “On the doorstep of the house was a copy of The Daily Punctilio, which had an article about the fire. That’s how I learned that my parents were dead. I spent days and days there, 162

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  all by myself. I was so sad, and so scared, and I didn’t know what else to do. I suppose I was waiting for the herpetologist to show up for work, and see if he was a friend of my parents and might be of some assistance. The kitchen was filled with food, so I had enough to eat, and every night I slept at the bottom of the stairs, so I could hear if anyone came in.” The Baudelaires nodded sympathetically, and Violet put a comforting hand on Quigley’s shoulder. “We were the same way,” Violet said, “right when we heard the news about our par- ents. I scarcely remember what we did and what we said.” “But didn’t anyone come looking for you?” Klaus asked. “The Daily Punctilio said that I died in the fire, too,” Quigley said. “The article said that my sister and brother were sent off to Prufrock Preparatory School, and that my parents’ estate was under the care of the city’s sixth most important financial advisor.” 163

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “Esmé Squalor,” Violet and Klaus said simul- taneously, a word which here means “in a dis- gusted voice, and at the exact same time.” “Right,” Quigley said, “but I wasn’t inter- ested in that part of the story. I was determined to go to the school and find my siblings again. I found an atlas in Dr. Montgomery’s library, and studied it until I found Prufrock Preparatory School. It wasn’t too far, so I started to gather whatever supplies I could find around his house.” “Didn’t you think of calling the authori- ties?” Klaus asked. “I guess I wasn’t thinking very clearly,” Quigley admitted. “All I could think of was finding my siblings.” “Of course,” Violet said. “So what happened then?” “I was interrupted,” Quigley said. “Some- one walked in just as I was putting the atlas in a totebag I found. It was Jacques Snicket, although I didn’t know who he was, of course. But he knew who I was, and was overjoyed that 164

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  I was alive after all.” “How did you know you could trust him?” Klaus asked. “Well, he knew about the secret passage- way,” Quigley said. “In fact, he knew quite a bit about my family, even though he hadn’t seen my parents in years. And . . .” “And?” Violet said. Quigley gave her a small smile. “And he was very well-read,” he said. “In fact, he was at Dr. Montgomery’s house to do a bit more reading. He said there was an important file that was hidden someplace on the premises, and he had to stay for a few days to try and complete his investigation.” “So he didn’t take you to the school?” Vio- let asked. “He said it wasn’t safe for me to be seen,” Quigley said. “He explained that he was part of a secret organization, and that my parents had been a part of it, too.” “V.F.D.,” Klaus said, and Quigley nodded in agreement. 165

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “Duncan and Isadora tried to tell us about V.F.D.,” Violet said, “but they never got the chance. We don’t even know what it stands for.” “It seems to stand for many things,” Quigley said, flipping pages in his notebook. “Nearly everything the organization uses, from the Vol- unteer Feline Detectives to the Vernacularly Fastened Door, has the same initials.” “But what is the organization?” Violet asked. “What is V.F.D.?” “Jacques wouldn’t tell me,” Quigley said, “but I think the letters stand for Volunteer Fire Department.” “Volunteer Fire Department,” Violet re- peated, and looked at her brother. “What does that mean?” “In some communities,” Klaus said, “there’s no official fire department, and so they rely on volunteers to extinguish fires.” “I know that,” Violet said, “but what does that have to do with our parents, or Count Olaf, or anything that has happened to us? I always 166

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  thought that knowing what the letters stood for would solve the mystery, but I’m as mystified as I ever was.” “Do you think our parents were secretly fighting fires?” Klaus asked. “But why would they keep it a secret?” Vio- let asked. “And why would they have a secret passageway underneath the house?” “Jacques said that the passageways were built by members of the organization,” Quigley said. “In the case of an emergency, they could escape to a safe place.” “But the tunnel we found connects our house to the home of Esmé Squalor,” Klaus said. “That’s not a safe place.” “Something happened,” Quigley said. “Some- thing that changed everything.” He flipped through a few pages of his commonplace book until he found what he was looking for. “Jacques Snicket called it a ‘schism,’” he said, “but I don’t know what that word means.” “A schism,” Klaus said, “is a division of a 167

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  previously united group of people into two or more oppositional parties. It’s like a big argu- ment, with everybody choosing sides.” “That makes sense,” Quigley said. “The way Jacques talked, it sounded like the entire organization was in chaos. Volunteers who were once working together are now enemies. Places that were once safe are now dangerous. Both sides are using the same codes, and the same disguises. Even the V.F.D. insignia used to rep- resent the noble ideals everyone shared, but now it’s all gone up in smoke.” “But how did the schism start?” Violet asked. “What was everyone fighting over?” “I don’t know,” Quigley said. “Jacques didn’t have much time to explain things to me.” “What was he doing?” Klaus asked. “He was looking for you,” Quigley replied. “He showed me a picture of all three of you, waiting at the dock on some lake, and asked me if I’d seen you anywhere. He knew that you’d been placed in Count Olaf’s care, and all the 168

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  terrible things that had happened there. He knew that you had gone to live with Dr. Mont- gomery. He even knew about some of the inventions you made, Violet, and the research you did, Klaus, and some of Sunny’s tooth- related exploits. He wanted to find you before it was too late.” “Too late for what?” Violet said. “I don’t know,” Quigley said with a sigh. “Jacques spent a long time at Dr. Montgomery’s house, but he was too busy conducting his inves- tigation to explain everything to me. He would stay up all night reading and copying informa- tion into his notebook, and then sleep all day, or disappear for hours at a time. And then one day, he said he had to go interview someone in the town of Paltryville, but he never came back. I waited weeks and weeks for him to return. I read books in Dr. Montgomery’s library, and started a commonplace book of my own. At first it was difficult to find any information on V.F.D., but I took notes on anything I could find. I must have 169

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  read hundreds of books, but Jacques never returned. Finally, one morning, two things hap- pened that made me decide not to wait any longer. The first was an article in The Daily Punc- tilio saying that my siblings had been kidnapped from the school. I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t wait for Jacques Snicket or for any- one else.” The Baudelaires nodded in solemn agree- ment. “What was the second thing?” Violet asked. Quigley was silent for a moment, and he reached down to the ground and scooped up a handful of ashes, letting them fall from his gloved hands. “I smelled smoke,” he said, “and when I opened the door of the Reptile Room, I saw that someone had thrown a torch through the glass of the ceiling, starting a fire in the library. Within minutes, the entire house was in flames.” “Oh,” Violet said quietly. “Oh” is a word which usually means something along the lines 170

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  of, “I heard you, and I’m not particularly inter- ested,” but in this case, of course, the eldest Baudelaire meant something entirely different, and it is something that is difficult to define. She meant “I am sad to hear that Uncle Monty’s house burned down,” but that is not all. By “Oh,” Violet was also trying to describe her sadness about all of the fires that had brought Quigley and Klaus and herself here to the Mortmain Mountains, to huddle in a circle and try to solve the mystery that surrounded them. When Violet said “Oh,” she was not only thinking of the fire in the Reptile Room, but the fires that had destroyed the Baudelaire home, and the Quag- mire home, and Heimlich Hospital, and Caligari Carnival, and the V.F.D. headquarters, where the smell of smoke still lingered around where the children were sitting. Thinking of all those fires made Violet feel as if the entire world were going up in flames, and that she and her siblings and all the other decent people in the world might 171

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  never find a place that was truly safe. “Another fire,” Klaus murmured, and Violet knew he was thinking the same thing. “Where could you go, Quigley?” “The only place I could think of was Paltry- ville,” Quigley said. “The last time I saw Jacques, he’d said he was going there. I thought if I went there I might find him again, and see if he could help me rescue Duncan and Isadora. Dr. Mont- gomery’s atlas showed me how to get there, but I had to go on foot, because I was afraid that anyone who might offer me a ride would be an enemy. It was a long time before I finally arrived, but as soon as I stepped into town I saw a large building that matched the tattoo on Jacques Snicket’s ankle. I thought it might be a safe place to go.” “Dr. Orwell’s office!” Klaus cried. “That’s not a safe place to go!” “Klaus was hypnotized there,” Violet ex- plained, “and Count Olaf was disguised as—” 172

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “As a receptionist,” Quigley finished. “I know. His fake nameplate was still on the desk. The office was deserted, but I could tell that Jacques had been there, because there were some notes in his handwriting that he’d left on the desk. With those notes, and the information I’d read in Dr. Montgomery’s library, I learned about the V.F.D. headquarters. So instead of waiting for Jacques again, I set out to find the organization. I thought they were my best hope of rescuing my siblings.” “So you set off to the Mortmain Mountains by yourself?” Violet asked. “Not quite by myself,” Quigley said. “I had this backpack that Jacques left behind, with the Verdant Flammable Devices and a few other items, and I had my commonplace book. And eventually, I ran into the Snow Scouts, and real- ized that hiding among them would be the quickest way to reach Mount Fraught.” He turned a page in his commonplace book and 173

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  examined his notes. “Remarkable Phenomena of the Mortmain Mountains, which I read in Dr. Montgomery’s library, had a hidden chapter that told me all about the Vertical Flame Diver- sion and the Vernacularly Fastened Door.” Klaus looked over Quigley’s shoulder to read his notes. “I should have read that book when I had the chance,” he said, shaking his head. “If we had known about V.F.D. when we were liv- ing with Uncle Monty, we might have avoided all the trouble that followed.” “When we were living with Uncle Monty,” Violet reminded him, “we were too busy trying to escape Count Olaf’s clutches to do any addi- tional research.” “I’ve had plenty of time to do research,” Quigley said, “but I still haven’t found all the answers I’m looking for. I still haven’t found Duncan and Isadora, and I still don’t know where Jacques Snicket is.” “He’s dead,” Klaus said, very quietly. “Count Olaf murdered him.” 174

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “I thought you might say that,” Quigley said. “I knew something was very wrong when he didn’t return. But what about my siblings? Do you know what happened to them?” “They’re safe, Quigley,” Violet said. “We think they’re safe. We rescued them from Olaf’s clutches, and they escaped with a man named Hector.” “Escaped?” Quigley repeated. “Where did they go?” “We don’t know,” Klaus admitted. “Hector built a self-sustaining hot air mobile home. It was like a flying house, kept in the air by a bunch of balloons, and Hector said it could stay up in the sky forever.” “We tried to climb aboard,” Violet said, “but Count Olaf managed to stop us.” “So you don’t know where they are?” Quigley asked. “I’m afraid not,” Violet said, and patted his hand. “But Duncan and Isadora are intrepid people, Quigley. They survived for quite some 175

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  time in Olaf’s clutches, taking notes on his schemes and trying to pass on the information to us.” “Violet’s right,” Klaus said. “I’m sure that wherever they are, they’re continuing their research. Eventually, they’ll find out you’re alive, and they’ll come looking for you, just like you went looking for them.” The two Baudelaires looked at one another and shivered. They had been talking about Quigley’s family, of course, but they felt as if they were talking about their own. “I’m sure that if your parents are alive, they’re looking for you, too,” Quigley said, as if he’d read their minds. “And Sunny, too. Do you know where she is?” “Someplace nearby,” Violet said. “She’s with Count Olaf, and Olaf wanted to find the headquarters, too.” “Maybe Olaf has already been here,” Quigley said, looking around at the wreckage. “Maybe he’s the one who burned this place down.” 176

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “I don’t think so,” Klaus said. “He wouldn’t have had time to burn this whole place down. We were right on his trail. Plus, I don’t think this place burned down all at once.” “Why not?” Quigley said. “It’s too big,” Klaus replied. “If the whole headquarters were burning, the sky would be covered in smoke.” “That’s true,” Violet said. “That much smoke would arouse too much suspicion.” “Where there’s smoke,” Quigley said, “there’s fire.” Violet and Klaus turned to their friend to agree, but Quigley was not looking at the two Baudelaires. He was looking past them, toward the frozen pool and the two frozen tributaries, where the enormous windows of the V.F.D. kitchen had once stood, and where I once chopped broccoli while the woman I loved mixed up a spicy peanut sauce to go with it, and he was pointing up toward the sky, where my associates and I used to watch the volunteer 177

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  eagles who could spot smoke from a very great distance. That afternoon, there were no eagles in the skies over the Mortmain Mountains, but as Violet and Klaus stood up and looked in the direction Quigley was pointing, there was some- thing in the sky that caught their attention. Because when Quigley Quagmire said, “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” he was not referring to Klaus’s theory about the destruction of V.F.D. headquarters. He was talking about the sight of green smoke, wafting up into the sky from the peak of Mount Fraught, at the top of the slip- pery slope. 178

CHAPTER Nine The two elder Baudelaires stood for a moment with Quigley, gaz- ing up at the small plume, a word which here means “mysterious cloud of green smoke.” After the long, strange story he had told them about surviving the fire and what he had learned about V.F.D., they could scarcely believe that they were confronting another mystery. “It’s a Verdant Flammable Device,” Quigley said. “There’s someone at the top of the water- fall, sending a signal.”

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  “Yes,” Violet said, “but who?” “Maybe it’s a volunteer, who escaped from the fire,” Klaus said. “They’re signaling to see if there are any other volunteers nearby.” “Or it could be a trap,” Quigley said. “They could be luring volunteers up to the peak in order to ambush them. Remember, the codes of V.F.D. are used by both sides of the schism.” “It hardly seems like a code,” Violet said. “We know that someone is communicating, but we don’t have the faintest idea who they are, or what they’re saying.” “This is what it must be like,” Klaus said thoughtfully, “when Sunny talks to people who don’t know her very well.” At the mention of Sunny’s name, the Baude- laires were reminded of how much they missed her. “Whether it’s a volunteer or a trap,” Violet said, “it might be our only chance to find our sister.” “Or my sister and brother,” Quigley said. “Let’s signal back,” Klaus said. “Do you 180

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  still have those Verdant Flammable Devices, Quigley?” “Of course,” Quigley said, taking the box of green tubes out of his backpack, “but Bruce saw my matches and confiscated them, because chil- dren shouldn’t play with matches.” “Confiscated them?” Klaus said. “Do you think he’s an enemy of V.F.D.?” “If everyone who said that children shouldn’t play with matches was an enemy of V.F.D.,” Violet said with a smile, “then we wouldn’t have a chance of survival.” “But how are we going to light these with- out matches?” Quigley asked. Violet reached into her pocket. It was a bit tricky to tie her hair up in a ribbon, as all four drafts in the Valley of Four Drafts were blowing hard, but at last her hair was out of her eyes, and the gears and levers of her inventing mind began to move as she gazed up at the mysterious signal. But of course this signal was neither a vol- unteer nor a trap. It was a baby, with unusually 181

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  large teeth and a way of talking that some people found confusing. When Sunny Baude- laire had said “lox,” for example, the members of Count Olaf’s troupe had assumed she was simply babbling, rather than explaining how she was going to cook the salmon that the hook- handed man had caught. “Lox” is a word which refers to smoked salmon, and it is a delicious way to enjoy freshly caught fish, particularly if one has the appropriate accoutrements, a phrase which here means “bagels, cream cheese, sliced cucumber, black pepper, and capers, which can be eaten along with the lox for an enjoyable meal.” Lox also has an additional benefit of pro- ducing quite a bit of smoke as it is prepared, and this is the reason Sunny chose this method of preparing salmon, as opposed to gravlax, which is salmon marinated for several days in a mix- ture of spices, or sashimi, which is salmon cut into pleasing shapes and simply served raw. Remembering what Count Olaf had said about being able to see everything and everyone from 182

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  the peak where he had brought her, the youngest Baudelaire realized that the phrase “where there’s smoke there’s fire” might be able to help her. As Violet and Klaus heard Quigley’s extraordinary tale at the bottom of the frozen waterfall, Sunny hurried to prepare lox and send a signal to her siblings, who she hoped were nearby. First, she nudged the Verdant Flammable Device—which she, like everyone at the peak, believed was a cigarette—into a small patch of weeds, in order to increase the smoke. Then she dragged over the covered casserole dish that she had been using as a makeshift bed, and placed the salmon inside it. In no time at all, the fish caught by the hook- handed man were absorbing the heat and smoke from the simmering green tube, and a large plume of green smoke was floating up into the sky above Mount Fraught. Sunny gazed up at the signal she made and couldn’t help smiling. The last time she had been separated from her siblings, she had simply waited in the birdcage 183

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  for them to come and rescue her, but she had grown since then, and was able to take an active part in defeating Count Olaf and his troupe, while still having time to prepare a seafood dish. “Something smells delicious,” said one of the white-faced women, walking by the casse- role dish. “I must admit, I had some doubts that an infant should be in charge of the cooking, but your salmon recipe seems like it will be very tasty indeed.” “There’s a word for the way she’s preparing the fish,” the hook-handed man said, “but I can’t remember what it is.” “Lox,” Sunny said, but no one heard her over the sound of Count Olaf storming out of his tent, followed by Esmé and the two sinister visitors. Olaf was clutching the Snicket file and glaring down at Sunny with his shiny, shiny eyes. “Put that smoke out at once!” he ordered. “I thought you were a terrified orphan prisoner, but I’m beginning to think you’re a spy!” 184

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “What do you mean, Olaf?” asked the other white-faced woman. “She’s using Esmé’s ciga- rette to cook us some fish.” “Someone might see the smoke,” Esmé snarled, as if she had not been smoking her- self just moments ago. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” The man with a beard but no hair picked up a handful of snow and threw it onto the weeds, extinguishing the Verdant Flammable Device. “Who are you signaling to, baby?” he asked, in his strange, hoarse voice. “If you’re a spy, we’re going to toss you off this mountain.” “Goo goo,” Sunny said, which meant some- thing along the lines of “I’m going to pretend I’m a helpless baby, instead of answering your question.” “You see?” the white-faced woman said, looking nervously at the man with a beard but no hair. “She’s just a helpless baby.” “Perhaps you’re right,” said the woman with 185

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  hair but no beard. “Besides, there’s no reason to toss a baby off a mountain unless you absolutely have to.” “Babies can come in handy,” Count Olaf agreed. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about recruit- ing more young people into my troupe. They’re less likely to complain about doing my bidding.” “But we never complain,” the hook-handed man said. “I try to be as accommodating as pos- sible.” “Enough chitchat,” said the man with a beard but no hair. “We have a lot of scheming to do, Olaf. I have some information that might help you with your recruiting idea, and accord- ing to the Snicket file, there’s one more safe place for the volunteers to gather.” “The last safe place,” said the sinister wo- man. “We have to find it and burn it down.” “And once we do,” Count Olaf said, “the last evidence of our plans will be completely destroyed. We’ll never have to worry about the authorities again.” 186

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “Where is this last safe place?” asked Kevin. Olaf opened his mouth to answer, but the woman with hair but no beard stopped him with a quick gesture and a suspicious glance down at Sunny. “Not in front of the toothy orphan,” she said, in her deep, deep voice. “If she learned what we were up to, she’d never sleep again, and you need your infant servant full of energy. Send her away, and we’ll make our plans.” “Of course,” Olaf said, smiling nervously at the sinister visitors. “Orphan, go to my car and remove all of the potato chip crumbs from the interior by blowing as hard as you can.” “Futil,” Sunny said, which meant something like, “That is an absolutely impossible chore,” but she walked unsteadily toward the car while Olaf’s troupe laughed and gathered around the flat rock to hear the new scheme. Passing the extinguished fire and the covered casserole dish where she would sleep that night, Sunny sighed sadly, thinking that her signal plan must have failed. But when she reached Olaf’s car and 187

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  gazed down at the frozen waterfall, she saw something that lightened her spirits, a phrase which here means “an identical plume of green smoke, coming from the very bottom of the slope.” The youngest Baudelaire looked down at the smoke and smiled. “Sibling,” she said to herself. Sunny, of course, could not be certain that it was Violet and Klaus who were signaling to her, but she could hope it was so, and hope was enough to cheer her up as she opened the door of the car and began blowing at the crumbs Olaf and his troupe had scattered all over the upholstery. But at the bottom of the frozen waterfall, the two elder Baudelaires did not feel nearly as hope- ful as they stood with Quigley and watched the green smoke disappear from the highest peak. “Someone put out the Verdant Flammable Device,” Quigley said, holding the green tube to one side so he wouldn’t smell the smoke. “What do you think that means?” 188

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE  “I don’t know,” Violet said, and sighed. “This isn’t working.” “Of course it’s working,” Klaus said. “It’s working perfectly. You noticed that the after- noon sun was reflecting off the frozen waterfall, and it gave you the idea to use the scientific principles of the convergence and refraction of light—just like you did on Lake Lachrymose, when we were battling the leeches. So you used Colette’s hand mirror to catch the sun’s rays and reflect them onto the end of the Verdant Flam- mable Device, so we could light it and send a signal.” “Klaus is right,” Quigley said. “It couldn’t have worked better.” “Thank you,” Violet said, “but that’s not what I mean. I mean this code isn’t working. We still don’t know who’s up on the peak, or why they were signaling us, and now the signal has stopped, but we still don’t know what it means.” “Maybe we should extinguish our Verdant 189

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS  Flammable Device, too,” Klaus said. “Maybe,” Violet agreed, “or maybe we should go up to the top of the waterfall and see for ourselves who is there.” Quigley frowned, and took out his common- place book. “The only way up to the highest peak,” he said, “is the path that the Snow Scouts are taking. We’d have to go back through the Vernacularly Fastened Door, back down the Vertical Flame Diversion, back into the Volun- teer Feline Detective cave, rejoin the scouts and hike for a long time.” “That’s not the only way up to the peak,” Violet said with a smile. “Yes, it is,” Quigley insisted. “Look at the map.” “Look at the waterfall,” Violet replied, and all three children looked up at the shiny slope. “Do you mean,” Klaus said, “that you think you can invent something which can get us up a frozen waterfall?” But Violet was already tying her hair out of 190